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I glance around again and take another deep breath. I wonder, fleetingly, if I’ll see tall, dark, and irritating again on my way out. For all his asshole vibe, my virginal boots are still quaking. Some people might think that not having your cherry popped by the time you’re twenty is rare, but I’ve never been one to give a damn about what others think. My self-respect is more important to me than a stranger’s judgment. Yet having an older man show me the tricks… well, I can’t deny it has appeal. I’ve always fantasized about having a seasoned lover—someone who would make love to me in all the right ways and show me the ropes, so to speak.
Maybe Mr. Alpha downstairs could come in handy, I think and then shake my head at the ridiculous idea. Come on, Poppy. Seriously? Do you really want a guy like that to be your first? He probably goes through women quicker than a Great White devours a seal.
Yes, I have much more important things to focus on just now. Losing my virginity should be the furthest thing from my mind.
Chapter Three
Nathaniel
Once I have things settled with Roberto, I straighten my tie and take the stairs up to my office. I’m more than ready to get further acquainted with Ms. McAdams. Her feistiness—the way she’d stood up to me—was impressive. Not many people do that.
Honestly, it was more than impressive. It had me imagining all of the dirty, nasty things I could do to a little thing like that after hours; just her and me and an empty gallery. I bet she’d be a spitfire in the sack. Loud. Wild. Dirty. Based on her age, which I know is twenty, she’s probably not very experienced, either.
The idea of teaching her a trick or two has my dick almost painfully hard.
I take a deep breath and continue up the stairs, forcing my body to calm the hell down. Whether I want her or not, bending Poppy McAdams over my desk and hearing her scream my name would be bad for business. Her father is a decent man, a hard worker, and even if he wasn’t, mixing business and pleasure is never a good idea. I know this for a fact because I’ve made that mistake once already.
Knowing this doesn’t make it any less tempting, though.
I reach the top of the stairs and turn toward my office. Poppy is sitting in one of the chairs near my desk. I can see from where I’m standing that her legs are crossed, and she’s bouncing her foot as she waits. Nerves or an excess of energy? She has nice posture, and while I’m usually into long hair on a woman, the pixie cut gives me a nice view of her long, graceful neck.
I can just imagine biting it as I—
No. Not going there again.
I approach my office, and she turns around, a smile on her face. The smile vanishes when she sees that it’s me, and I fight back a smirk.
“Oh. It’s you. Where is Mr. Stone?” she demands. Clearly, I’ve made a great first impression on her.
I hold my hand out to her and smile. “Nathaniel Stone, at your service.”
She stands, and the blush that colors her cheeks is so damn pretty I decide right that moment that I’ll make her blush often. When she puts her hand in mine, her skin is so soft, so smooth, my first thought is to wonder if she feels like that everywhere.
Focus, Stone.
“Right this way,” I tell her, gesturing toward my office. She nods, and turns, walking ahead of me into the office. She’s damn pretty from the back, too, and I force my eyes away from her pert little ass and long legs.
Once we’re in my office, I close the door. She turns to me.
“I am so sorry about what happened downstairs,” she begins. “I didn't know that was you and—”
I hold my hand up, and she goes quiet. I smile. “It’s okay. You weren’t wrong. Let’s just do a restart on this whole thing, okay?”
She nods, relief evident in her eyes. “That sounds good.”
“Please, have a seat, and we can get started. If you want some coffee, please help yourself,” I tell her as I make my way around my desk. Instead of grabbing a coffee, she settles into one of the leather chairs on the other side of the desk. I spend a few moments getting situated, trying to get my libido under control. She smells just as good as she looks, a mix of citrus and vanilla, along with something a little sultry that I can’t quite identify. She waits, but her foot is bouncing again.
“So, you’ll be with us for two months, Ms. McAdams,” I begin.
“Please, call me Poppy.”
“Then please call me Nathaniel,” I tell her, and she nods.
“Over the next few weeks, you’ll learn about every facet of running a gallery. While most of your duties here will lean toward the administrative, you’ll also get some hands-on experience in actual art curation and museum management.”
